


I'll Fight For This: A Short Finn Fic

by twistedthingsandchocolate



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars: Before the Awakening - Greg Rucka
Genre: Finn Feeling Sorry For The People On The Other Side, Finn thinking about his past as a stormtrooper, Finn's Greatest Asset Is His Empathy And Good Heart, First Order Still Douchebags Tho, Gen, Minor Mentions of Canonical Violence, This sounds way more serious than it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6508795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedthingsandchocolate/pseuds/twistedthingsandchocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As soon he’s well enough to do so, Finn often finds himself taking walks through the Resistance base, taking stock of all the little things that’re different from his time with the First Order.</p>
<p>Contains: faces, feelings and lots and lots of ex-trooper introspection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Fight For This: A Short Finn Fic

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Finn’s chapter from the Before the Awakening tie-in novel and all of the resulting Finn-related feels that came of it.

As soon he’s well enough to do so, Finn often finds himself taking walks through the Resistance base, taking stock of all the little things that’re different from his time with the First Order.

The clutter in the corners, the oil stains on the tarmac, the greenery creeping out of seemingly everywhere, the messes left by pilots and crew and staff at their stations,

_(Admiral Ackbar has several empty mugs at his station, Finn notes, standing as much at attention as his back will allow him, as much out of respect for General Organa as habit from a lifetime of military discipline._

_There’s print-outs scattered everywhere on a table in the far left corner of the room, books piled on a desk over there, a pile of boxes and assorted goods over by the door that he’s sure has been left untouched for a very long time, and the floor doesn’t look like it’s been cleaned in a while. He can’t help cracking a small smile at it all._

_Phasma would’ve never approved of such disorder.)_

The colors clashing on the myriad of uncovered faces and in the clothes and in the scenery, the subtle new expressions he’s still learning to identify flitting over open faces, the fire that he’s never seen in the eyes of any of his fellow ‘troopers, the way everyone is free to show they care, to help each other out without getting reprimanded for it, to be an individual working both within and without a unit.

_(Sometimes, when he’s watching Poe and his squad trade banter during maintenance or over dinner, he thinks of Slip and Zeroes and Nines._

_He thinks of how different they had it, how warm Poe and his friends are with each other, how cold and impersonal the relationship in Finn’s squad had felt in comparison. He thinks, not without a touch of anger-sadness-sorrow, of how Poe has everyone’s back, how he can afford not to leave anyone behind, while Finn was specifically warned against the same behavior once, against caring, lest his loyalties waver in favor of his comrades over his cause._

_In these moments, he mourns what all the 'troopers will never have, this wonderful warm trust and mutual affection he sees flowing between Poe and his team, and when Poe looks over and finds Finn’s eyes over the table at meals or from under a half-repaired X-Wing, he tries his best to return that beaming smile, but he knows Poe can see it doesn’t reach his eyes. Finn mourns his squad in these moments, mourns the dead and the living alike._

_He mourns the Stormtroopers’ empty eyes and hollow faces, because no one else truly can.)_

The individuality spilling out from every corner, the brightly burning comradery passing by him in the corridors. The way everyone acknowledges him, sometimes even greets or smiles at him, the way he feels more at ease and at home here than he did among the 'troopers.

He still feels like an outsider sometimes – like when his Stormtrooper training makes him stand out during a training exercise or his so-called first-hand expertise on the First Order is called upon during briefings.

He’ll feel out of place when people around him laugh and talk of things he has never known, never been allowed to know, because the First Order didn’t approve of that vid or that book for distribution amongst the 'troopers.

When he finds something which contradicts what the First Order taught him about the world, he feels something complicated constrict somewhere behind his lungs, a ball of _wrong_ and anger and existential panic mixed with a flare of curiosity, of a will to find out the truth and distance himself from the First Order’s lies.

_(Finn spares a thought for the 'troopers, then, too, knowing many of them may live and die believing the lies they’ve been fed._

_He’d like to believe there are others like him, scattered throughout the ranks and stations and ships across all of the First Order’s forces. Good men who are fighting to save the galaxy, to help the struggling people out there. Good men who simply believes in the wrong truths because they are being led by the wrong people without realizing it, or good men who know this, but are trapped in the system and can’t find a way to escape it like Finn did.)_

_(Finn sometimes thinks of how close he came to never being 'Finn’ at all. If he hadn’t taken that chance and broken Poe out, what would Phasma and Hux have done to him?)_

_(He thinks of blaster fire ringing in the small office space of a mining facility, of Slip swaying in place from a head injury during combat training and being expected to fight Finn anyway, of blank eyes in blanker faces at mealtimes, and decides he’s glad he’ll never have to find out.)_

He’ll walk outside, sit and take in the fresh air and all of its unfamiliar scents. Catalogue all the sights and signs of life, and just marvel in it. In this impossible scenario he’s found himself in. Fighting for the Resistance instead of against it, doing right by himself and the galaxy by killing people he would’ve considered… not quite comrades, really.

It’s like that veteran 'trooper had told him what felt like a lifetime ago - he was an outsider to his fellow 'troopers, always had been. Always would be, especially now. But he was welcomed here, with Poe and Rey and the rest of the Resistance. Despite everything, he was free and alive to enjoy it as he saw fit.

He wasn’t alone anymore, not here.

He’ll look around at all the people, the mess, the wild plants, and the vibrant, all-encompassing liveliness of this place, and think…

_(I’ll fight for this.)_

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a 'But just imagine Finn doing...' text post meant for Tumblr and then sort of evolved into nearly 1000 words worth of me spewing Finn-feels all over the place.
> 
> I have no idea if this is any good or not, but if you got this far, thank you for reading. Hopefully, you enjoyed it. .3.


End file.
